Tear Down All the Walls
by DancingRaindrops
Summary: The story of their friendship was never meant to exist. Enemies, perhaps. Indifferent acquaintances at best. But something more? Never. Rose and Scorpius, however, don't seem to be able to stay away from each other, no matter what they do. One-shot.


_A/N: I'll save my rambling for the bottom. xD Happy belated birthday, Emma! *hugs*_

* * *

><p><strong>Tear Down All the Walls<strong>

She knows from the start that she's supposed to stay away from him.

Scorpius Malfoy.

Her daddy warned her to avoid him, albeit somewhat jokingly; her cousin Fred told her awful stories about the Malfoys to make sure she did.

Why did she let his smirk ever cross her mind?

She can see that it's really all her fault and no one else's. Not even his.

She should have known better.

(Deep down, she knows she did. But she can't resist anyway.)

... ... ...

He's not the person everyone thinks he is.

Everyone already has their opinion of him, just by hearing his name.

They're always wrong.

Even Rose was wrong about him when they first met.

But she's clever and friendly and oh, that blushing smile of hers is unlike anything else he's ever seen.

He doesn't care, though. He isn't supposed to care about anyone, all the filthy, judgmental hypocrites.

(But maybe she isn't one of them.)

... ... ...

"Do you mind?" she asks, out of breath from hauling her large trunk down the aisle of the Hogwarts Express. "Everywhere else is full."

He spares her no more than a passing glance and a cold nod before turning to look out the window once more.

Somewhat taken aback by his frigid response, Rose tucks an unruly strand of hair behind her ear nervously before sitting down, Al following close behind.

"I'm Rose, by the way," she offers brightly. "Rose Weasley."

Al's startlingly green eyes dart over to her, sending her a warning as he stows their belongings overhead.

The boy with blond hair raises his head ever so slightly without looking at her, the profile of his pointed chin more prominent than before. "Scorpius."

Rose bites her lower lip anxiously, his reply coupled with Al's reaction confirming what she had thought. He is the boy she's supposed to ignore.

All the same, she kicks Al when he sits down across from her without a word, prompting him to say, "Potter. Al Potter."

Scorpius turns his head then, giving Al a complete once-over from the tips of his new shoes to the hair sticking up at the back of his head. "Potter," he repeats cordially, with a great deal less contempt than Rose had expected. "Pleasure."

Al's eyes widen once more, telegraphing his confusion to Rose. Scorpius turns back to face the window, resuming his study of the English countryside and effectively ending any possible conversation before it begins.

Rose takes advantage of this, carefully noting every aspect of his appearance. Well-groomed, certainly, and aristocratic features. He looks as though he should have a crown on his head.

She's studying his complexion to see if his alabaster skin has even the faintest blemish anywhere when she catches the ghost of a smile on his otherwise disinterested face. He knows she's looking at him.

Embarrassed, she drops her gaze to her hands, determined not to look at him again for the rest of the train ride. When she briefly peeks at him two minutes later, the corner of his mouth is curled up into an unmistakable Malfoy smirk.

... ... ...

When the Sorting Hat is placed on his head, it takes everything Scorpius has not to run away. Everyone's glaring eyes are on him, and he can hear the scornful and disgusted whispers that follow the announcement of "Malfoy, Scorpius."

He hates everyone in the school, he hates Hogwarts, and he hates his father for giving him a surname that's about to land him in Slytherin.

"Feeling a bit frightened, are we?" chuckles the Sorting Hat in his ear. "Let's see here...my, my, what a surprise...not so fond of the Dark Arts, are you? More a quiet sort...smart as a whip, nothing much escapes your eye...And plenty of determination too, that's a bit dangerous given your cunning...but really, Malfoy, what a sharp mind...well, it's quite clear to me that you belong in RAVENCLAW!"

The Great Hall goes silent for a moment; even Scorpius is taken aback by the House he has been placed into. Scattered applause begins as he slides off the stool and stumbles over to the Ravenclaw table, weak-kneed with shock.

The girl he sits next to glares at him for a moment before turning away, gossiping with her friend about the disgrace Scorpius is somehow already bringing to the House. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but the cool reception from his supposed new "family" forces him to assume the blank mask he learned from his father since the moment he was born.

_Don't look at them_, Scorpius reminds himself, clenching his fist in his robes beneath the table. _They hate you, they don't matter, they don't exist._

He mentally repeats it to himself like a mantra as more first years are Sorted, his gaze flickering upward only when a professor whose name he can't remember anymore calls out, "Weasley, Rose."

She shuts her eyes tightly the moment the Sorting Hat is placed on her head, focusing all her energy on what it's saying in her ear. The Great Hall waits with bated breath, three of the four Houses praying that she will join them and bring honor to their name.

Scorpius turns his head and catches a glimpse of Albus Potter anxiously murmuring, "Come on, Rosie," from his place of honor at the Gryffindor table. For a moment, Scorpius imagines what it must be like to have family members who care about you that much. To have anyone want you to join them so desperately.

The very idea of it is baffling to him.

"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat announces, a millisecond of silence following before the entire table shakes and Scorpius feels like he ought to clap his hands over his ears in order to retain his hearing.

Rose blushes furiously, the tips of her ears matching her flaming hair as she makes her way toward the thunderous applause and cheers. The embarrassed grin on her face reminds Scorpius of when he caught her staring on the train, and he smiles automatically.

Catching his eye, Rose slides into the seat next to Scorpius and exclaims to him, "God, that took awhile. Couldn't decide if I should be in Gryffindor or not, but apparently I'll meet more of my kind of people here," before shaking hands with the eager Ravenclaw prefects who have specifically made their way down the table to meet her.

"Your kind of people?" repeats Scorpius skeptically, chancing a glance at the downcast Gryffindor table, where Potter looks crestfallen along with other Weasley cousins.

"Of course," replies Rose with a grin. "Secretly I think some of Gryffindor might be bores, the brave ones certainly can't be as interesting as _intellectuals._Don't you agree?"

Taken aback by her reaction to what he had assumed would be unwelcome news, Scorpius nods. "Well, yes, but wouldn't your parents disapprove?"

She looks at him with wide brown eyes, shocked by the very idea. "Parents? My Mum was nearly a Ravenclaw herself, and Dad...well, with Mum there, I'm sure Dad won't mind as long as I beat - " Rose abruptly falls silent, her face flushing once more. "Well, never mind. We're here now, aren't we?"

_Father's going to kill me_, Scorpius thinks to himself. _First day and I'm sitting at Ravenclaw table, talking to a Weasley._

"Yes," he finally replies instead. "So we are."

... ... ...

"I wonder if he's dangerous."

Rose turns to frown at her closest friend at Hogwarts, Emma Grey, a Muggleborn who arrived at school already knowing without a doubt who was "good" and who was "bad." Or, in this case, supposedly dangerous. Following her gaze across the library, Rose briefly meets the eye of Scorpius, who nods tersely in her direction.

"Scorpius?" she asks Emma incredulously after returning the greeting with a crooked smile. "Are you daft? He's about as dangerous as I am."

"That's not what I heard," says Emma simply, shaking her head as a list of the books she had read on the Wizarding War practically materializes in front of Rose's eyes. "You know what his family's like better than anyone. And we've been here three months already and he doesn't have any friends. Don't you suppose it's a bit unnatural?"

"Not everyone needs to socialize to be happy," Rose reminds her, "you and I know that as well as anyone." She tosses her red hair behind her shoulder, sneaking another peek at Scorpius as she does so. He's utterly absorbed in whatever book he's reading.

"But you and I _choose_to be more or less alone," protests Emma, leaning over her Potions textbook and whispering as loudly as possible. "It's completely different!"

Rose lifts one eyebrow at her friend, still surprised at how biased people seem to be against the quiet Scorpius. "Maybe he chooses it too."

"Yes, and maybe I'll be top of the class when Flitwick announces marks next week, Rosie, please!" scoffs Emma. "I'm sure he's dying to talk to someone."

"Or maybe he enjoys solitude," Rose replies pointedly, tapping her textbook with the end of her quill. "Perhaps he can actually get some work done."

Rolling her eyes, Emma sighs and turns the page, her focus shifting to her Potions essay instead of Scorpius Malfoy.

Rose, on the other hand, glances up when Scorpius passes by their table fifteen minutes later, his unreadable grey eyes watching her intently as though he heard every word of their conversation.

She wonders if he was listening. If he had been paying attention to her. Especially while she defended him.

Not that it matters.

... ... ...

It's the last day of the year, and he isn't sure if he's happy about it or not.

School's alright. More or less what he expected, really, and the library has enough books to keep him occupied through at least fourth year. He passed his exams with flying colors, he's sure, either top of the class or just under Rose, like it's been all year.

"Malfoy?" He turns around automatically at the sound of his surname before matching the voice to James Potter, a second year Gryffindor who's never spoken to him in his life.

"Potter," he returns in a proud greeting, lifting his chin to show he isn't as intimidated as he feels. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah. I ran back for a pair of socks I left, and Rosie asked me to give you this if I found you." James practically shoves the crumpled piece of paper at him, his brown eyes flashing with curiosity. "I didn't open it," he explains to Scorpius, who unfolds it deliberately slowly. "I was just wondering what it - "

"_Have a great summer_," reads Scorpius, cutting him off effectively. "_I can't wait until next year. Rose Weasley._Pretty dull, if you ask me, you might have opened it and spared yourself the anticipation."

Scorpius watches as James Potter seems to deflate in front of his very eyes, the excitement draining away. "Oh. I guess she wanted to give all your first years a friendly note before she left. Dear Rosie," remarks James affectionately, mussing up the hair at the back of his head even more. "Well...bye, Malfoy."

"Scorpius," he corrects quickly, deciding the eldest Potter isn't such a bad sort after all. "I - well, I don't like Malfoy much."

James grins in understanding, the charming and mischievous smile of a born prankster. "Me neither. See you around, Scorpius."

He raises his hand in farewell for a moment before looking back down at the paper. The message is painstakingly neat, Rose the perfectionist must have written it twenty times at least before making all the copies. As he flips it over, Scorpius notes an address scribbled in the corner, something he hadn't noticed before.

Surprised, he looks at it closer, realizing the messier handwriting makes this letter unique. Surely she hasn't given her address to the entire year. Why him, then?

Scorpius isn't so sure he wants to answer that question. Either way, he knows Father would kill him if he wrote to a Weasley over the summer holiday. Still, he folds up the note carefully, putting it in his pocket for safekeeping. Just because.

... ... ...

"Scorpius," she blurts out when she sees him on the first day of classes, fellow second years filing into the Transfiguration classroom behind her.

He turns to greet her, his platinum blond hair a bit longer than the last time she saw him. Not like she notices.

"Hullo, Rose. Good summer?" His tone is friendly, but distant at the same time. It says everything she's wondered about this summer, speaking volumes about the letters that never came.

"Fine," she replies with a forced smile in return, telling herself to follow suit with a cool demeanor. "Wonderful, actually. You?"

He shrugs, his hands carelessly shoved into the pockets of his robes. Or so he makes it seem. Rose knows him well enough to see that every move of his is made to be watched. "Father wasn't pleased with me. But he hardly ever is. Sometimes I wonder if he's even really alive."

"Oh, Scorpius, I - " Rose drops the act immediately, concern taking over.

"Don't," he interrupts quickly, his chin rising defiantly. "It's nothing I can't handle. I shouldn't have told you that anyway."

It's a slap in the face, or at least as close as Rose Weasley has ever come to experiencing one. She watches as Scorpius turns on his heel and finds his seat, the discussion clearly over.

_You were never friends_, she reminds herself, rationalizing already. _Why feel disappointed?_

Rose decides to take even more meticulous notes in class than usual, determined to beat Malfoy on every single exam this year.

... ... ...

"Owl for you, Scorpius." A fellow second year who shares his dormitory nods toward the closed window of the common room, drawing his attention to the trademark Malfoy eagle owl waiting outside with a huge gift box in tow, three school owls sharing the burden behind.

Scorpius walks over and unbolts the window, pulling in the brightly wrapped present. The parchment tied to the top bears the unmistakable seal of his father.

_Dear Scorpius_, it reads, _Happy birthday. Your mother and I hope you're having an excellent time at school. Study hard, you ought to be top of all your classes. Enjoy the enclosed present. Father._

Sighing at the typically bare note, Scorpius tugs at the ribbon on the box, carefully unfolding the wrapping before lifting the lid.

"What is it?" The boy, Will, speaks up again, momentarily forgetting his Charms essay with the excitement of the arrival of a present.

"Latest Firebolt," remarks Scorpius calmly, sliding his right hand down the polished broomstick. "Though I don't play Quidditch."

"Merlin, that's an amazing broom." Will sighs wistfully, the Ravenclaw Keeper reserve. More people are craning their necks at this, trying to get a good look. "What's it for?"

Scorpius opens his mouth silently, debating whether or not he wants to further draw the attention of the semi-full common room.

"Happy birthday, Scorpius," murmurs the unmistakable voice of Rose Weasley from behind him. He whirls around to face her, a small smile spreading across his face. It seems like it's been forever since she last acknowledged his existence.

Though he doesn't care, of course, because she's a Weasley and Father would kill him for thoughts like those.

"Thanks, Rose." She hesitates for a moment before opening her arms, and the brief hug is so much better than the Firebolt that he almost forgets the latter exists.

"You should have announced it earlier today," remarks Rose when they both pull away a half second later than they should have. "Might have gotten us out of that surprise quiz in Transfiguration."

Before he can reply, she gives him a perfect grin and walks away, leaving him to wonder if the distance he's felt from her recently is now a thing of the past.

... ... ...

"Really, Emma, Divination is rubbish." Rose rolls her eyes as her friend recounts the latest in a long line of Professor Trelawney's eccentricities. "It's only been a fortnight and she's already driving you mad. You ought to have taken Arithmancy with me!"

"Not bloody likely!" retorts Emma with a toss of her dark hair, "I may be in Ravenclaw, but I'm rubbish with complicated classes like that. Give me Charms any day over _Arithmancy_."

"It's actually really fascinating." Both girls turn, surprised to find Scorpius Malfoy at the edge of their table, a textbook in his hands. "And Professor Vector is frightfully clever."

"See?" Rose grins triumphantly across the table, pleased. "_Somebody_agrees with me."

"Mhm." Emma shoots Rose a somewhat bewildered look, glancing up at Scorpius before abruptly excusing herself. "Right, well, er...I've got a book to fetch, I'll see you later." She deliberately leaves her chair out, practically inviting Scorpius to sit before scampering away with a wink at Rose.

"Subtle," murmurs Rose to herself, sighing and hoping that Scorpius (who definitely grew taller over the summer and looks handsomer than ever) doesn't think she put Emma up to this.

"How are you, Scorpius?" she continues brightly, realizing as the words leave her mouth exactly how generic and stupid they are.

"Spectacular," he replies with the barest hint of sarcasm, briefly flashing a rare smile nonetheless. "I had a question on the Arithmancy homework though, funny coincidence actually that you were discussing it."

"Right. Wait, really?" Rose can feel her face beginning to heat up, her cheeks no doubt matching her flaming hair. "I just - you seem so knowledgeable in class, that's all." Her own awkwardness is enough to make her cringe in embarrassment.

To her surprise, Scorpius lets a laugh slip out, his cool demeanor apparently nonexistent as he slides into the chair recently vacated by Emma. "Well, that's always good to hear. I was just a bit muddled when it came to this chart here..."

He continues talking, Rose losing focus as she notices his expressive hand gestures while he talks, a quirk that oddly draws her attention to his flashing grey eyes.

"Anyway, what do you think?" He looks at her expectantly, a few moments passing before she registers the silence.

"Oh. Well, er..." Rose glances down at the chart hastily, a frown beginning to crease her forehead. "If you look at this column here, it becomes clear that..."

His curious eyes never leave her face, a fact she is all too blushingly well aware of.

... ... ...

"What the...?"

"Happy Valentine's Day, mate." Scorpius rolls over in bed at the sound of Will's voice, still bleary-eyed with sleep.

"Val-Val-" His words are punctuated with a huge, noisy yawn. "Valentine's Day? Really? Already?"

"Yes, already!" Thomas is immersed in his pile of "clean" clothes, tossing various lone socks behind him. "Do you suppose Abbie will notice if I don't wear matching socks?"

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius pulls the covers back over his head. "Why does it matter?" his muffled voice grumbles aloud, hating girls more than ever for ruining his Saturday morning.

The other four boys in the dormitory laugh, a chorus of chuckles that forces Scorpius to yank the covers off his head.

"Scorpius," begins Jack, "you need to open your eyes."

"Yeah, well, thanks to you lot, my eyes are open a bit earlier than they're supposed to be," retorts Scorpius irritably, glaring at the boys he's grown to like, if not befriend.

"To _girls_," clarifies Will, shaking his head as if this ought to somehow be understood. "I mean, have you started noticing them?"

A crooked grin and bushy red hair come to mind before Scorpius can stop himself. "No," he protests indignantly, shaking off thoughts of Rose Weasley. "Why would I?"

Thomas and Jack exchange knowing looks, both pausing in their Valentine pre-date preparations. "You will."

"If you say so," scoffs Scorpius, running a hand through his tousled hair before collapsing back on the four-poster bed and closing his eyes again. "Have fun with whoever they are, then."

"Thanks, I'm going to need it." Jack picks up a broken comb off the floor in an attempt to fix his appearance a bit more. "Rose is used to the best."

Grey eyes flashing open, Scorpius sits up in shock. "Excuse me?" he manages, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Intelligent, witty, blushing Rose? And _Jack_?

"Rose," repeats his new sworn enemy, checking his reflection in the mirror. "Rose Weasley." Thomas lets out a wolf whistle, causing Scorpius to clench his fist in the bedclothes.

"You alright?" asks Will, catching a hint of the turmoil lurking under Malfoy's controlled features.

"Fine," Scorpius says between his teeth, forcing a smile. "I'm fine." _Rose._

... ... ...

Rose walks into double Potions on Monday with a dreamy smile, looking like she's walking on air.

Jack's just the right sort of person for her. Perfect, really. Clever, funny, good-looking...and she's terribly flattered by his attention, the first serious looks she's ever gotten from a boy.

Well, to be honest, the only looks from anyone.

But that doesn't matter. He's sweet, and he makes her feel special. Her parents would approve. It's third year, after all; why shouldn't she have a bit of fun?

She grins at Jack and tosses her messy tangle of red curls behind her as she sits down, completely oblivious to the jealous grey eyes watching her intently from the back of the classroom.

... ... ...

"I hate Halloween." Scorpius stabs at the food on his plate moodily, a piece of chicken speared on his fork. "All this fuss over nothing."

"Cheer up, mate," Jack says heartily, clapping him on the back with the arm that isn't draped over Rose's shoulders. "At least there's a feast."

Rose laughs at the joke, of course, her jack-o-lantern earrings swinging back and forth with the movement. "I guess Scorpius doesn't appreciate the food as much as you do, Jack...no one else does!"

"That's because he's a pig," points out Emma, glaring at Jack shoveling more food into his mouth. Scorpius shoots her a warning glance, knowing that they both ought to keep their dislike of the relationship in check with Rose around.

"He isn't!" protests Rose automatically, just as Scorpius knew she would. Her loyalty would rival that of a Hufflepuff, he muses grudgingly to himself, a nasty voice in the back of his head saying that she might very well be loyal, but it shouldn't be to Jack.

"It's alright," Jack says in between mouthfuls, "better than starving to death like Scorpius, right?" A chorus of laughter rises up, Scorpius forcing a brief smile as everyone turns to him.

Across the table from him, Rose bites her lip rather than laughing, and for a second he thinks she might defend him as well. Her warm brown eyes meet his just as Jack turns to lightly kiss her on the cheek, her face flushing prettily.

Scorpius drops his gaze to his fork once more, deliberately eating the piece of chicken and calmly sweeping the hair out of his eyes. Of course he doesn't care about his friend's girl, nothing more than another classmate.

The look on Rose's face as she smiles at Jack reminds Scorpius that she isn't his. And she shouldn't be.

... ... ...

"You're kidding me." Rose stares at Emma with wide eyes, her jaw dropping at the news. "But he's never even spoken to her before!"

"That's rubbish, Rosie, they've been partners in Potions all year," points out Emma, smiling more than Rose thinks she ought to, given the topic of conversation. "Just because you've been with Jack - "

"But Scorpius doesn't _like_blondes," Rose protests, recalling Katie Benson's beautiful hair. And eyes. And face. And figure. And - bloody hell, Scorpius is never going to break up with her.

"Show me any guy who doesn't like the look of Katie, hair color or not," remarks Emma wryly, her infuriating grin spreading. "Besides, I should think you'd be happy for them, she's been after Scorpius since Christmas at least, and he's come 'round in time to have a proper Valentine's with a girl for once."

Lost for words, Rose begins to pack up her books, unable to stay in the library with homework any longer with such loud thoughts screaming inside her head.

"Where're you off to?" Emma asks, her smile falling for a moment.

"Jack." Rose shoves the rest of her things into her book bag in an uncharacteristically haphazard fashion, slinging it over her shoulder. "He wanted to meet me." The lie burns in her mouth, but she can't stay here, and she knows Emma will follow her out unless she thinks she's with Jack.

"Alright," agrees Emma, the hint of a frown on her pretty face as she looks down at her Charms essay that's nowhere near finished. "Catch you at dinner then."

Forcing a smile, Rose leaves the library, only to immediately run into the only two people she had hoped with all her heart she wouldn't see.

"Rose!" Scorpius is surprised, his shoulders tensing slightly for a moment before relaxing again. "In a hurry?"

"Meeting Jack," she repeats, swallowing and putting on a grin, determined to be as friendly as ever. "Hullo, Katie."

"Rose," greets Katie with a warm smile, her honey-colored hair complementing blue eyes that are almost as startling as Al's green ones. "Tell Jack I said hi," she adds, a polite way of asking her to leave that Rose knows all too well.

Catching sight of their attached hands, Rose nods wordlessly and pushes forward, walking quickly until she's out of their hearing and runs directly to her empty dormitory.

The door slams satisfactorily behind her, the sound echoing for a moment before she collapses on her bed, burying her head in her pillow to hide the violent tears that she knows shouldn't be falling.

... ... ...

"...and that was my winter holiday, really," concludes Katie, folding her delicate hands under her chin and propping her elbows on the table. "How was yours?"

Scorpius thinks back to the Christmas he spent at Hogwarts, an awkward dinner with the staff and a few other students who had more likely been neglected than chosen not to return home, as he had.

A few letters, he'd certainly received those. Father, Mother...a few lines from his dorm mates, who were apparently his friends now, since they had traded the usual goodies. Even Albus had sent a brief "Happy Christmas!" with a dozen Chocolate Frogs. And Rose, Jack's Rose, had written three feet of parchment and sent a lovely blue sweater.

He'd stashed most of the candy, indulged a bit, sat in the common room, and read Rose's letter at least ten times before finally deciding to reply. The rest of the holiday was more or less spent waiting for her letters and attempting to compose his own.

Katie looks up at him expectantly, waiting for an exciting anecdote of one trip or another. "Fine," he says briefly before realizing how sparse it is. "I wrote a lot of letters."

Scorpius instantly curses himself for saying such a thing, but his new "girlfriend" (he still isn't quite sure how this relationship stuff ought to proceed) pounces on it immediately.

"Letters?" She smiles, a really rather pretty smile that reminds Scorpius why he decided to ask her out rather than most other classmates. "I love writing letters! Whom did you write to mostly?"

It's a logical follow-up question, but it still pains him to have to answer it. He hides it well, though, matching her smile with a small one of his own.

"Friends. Just friends."

... ... ...

_P.S. I've broken up with Katie._

That's how he announces it a week into summer, short and to the point. It isn't even mentioned in the rest of the page, only an afterthought below the _Your friend, Scorpius_.

She's dying to ask him all kinds of questions about it, almost ready to beg for details, but that wouldn't seem right.

Still. Just that one line makes her grin far wider than the entire letter from Jack, who actually tries to be entertaining.

It shouldn't matter to her anyway. Scorpius is a friend, a relatively close one at that, and she isn't keen on starting up drama when he clearly doesn't feel that way about her.

But oh, she can't stop smiling.

... ... ...

On the first day of fifth year, Scorpius swears he's going to forget every thought he's ever had of Rose being more than a friend.

He's had such thoughts, he'll admit them now, but they will be completely banished.

There are OWLs to think of this year, studying to do. And she's still with Jack.

Scorpius will be a friend to her, nothing more and possibly something less, depending on the amount of studying he puts in. He'll certainly be her rival in schoolwork again, as always.

But mostly a friend, a classmate, an acquaintance. Certainly not the person who sits by the window all summer and wonders when the next letter from her will arrive.

There. He's said it and he's going to stick to it.

... ... ...

"Hey, baby," Jack puts an arm around her shoulders, greeting her lazily on their first day back from winter holidays, and something snaps inside Rose. He's been so _irritating_lately.

"Jack," she retorts coldly, shrugging off his arm and walking briskly through the corridor without looking at him.

"What's up with you, Rosie?" He sounds aggravated, offended. Good, she's actually making an impact on him.

"Nothing. I'm going to the library," replies Rose tersely, her loose braid swinging back and forth as she walks.

"Aw, come on, let's have some fun first." He grabs her hand as she swings it back and forth, only to have it yanked back.

"I need to _study_." She doesn't, really (well, not today at least), but there's no better excuse for sitting alone with a book.

"That's all you ever do anymore!" accuses Jack, his face twisting into a grimace. "You don't care about me or Quidditch or fun or anything but these stupid exams!"

"That's not true!" she protests hotly, finally turning to face him. "These are just extremely important and - "

"Come off it, Rose! We've got _months_ ahead of us still. We're just back from holiday! Piles of homework aren't enough, you have to study extra too?" Jack shakes his head, disgusted. "Being a Ravenclaw doesn't mean you have to be an absolute bore and a fright to be around!"

They both stop short at his words, neither quite believing what he said. Rose swallows tightly, tears beginning to choke her up.

"Rosie, I didn't - " Jack begins, trying to backtrack, but it's far too late for that.

"Goodbye, Jack," Rose says with as much composure as she can muster. "We're through." She turns on her heel and walks with carefully measured steps to the Great Hall, where she knows she can find Al or Emma and cry to her heart's content.

Looking down at her feet, she jostles someone turning into the corridor roughly with her elbow on accident, offering a quiet, "Sorry," in apology.

"Rose?" She looks up into those familiar grey eyes, concern softening them. Within seconds, his arms are around her, calmly stroking her back and holding her as she sobs into his shoulder.

"Oh, Scorpius," she hiccups and holds him closer, hiding her dripping red eyes and nose from his sight. "Jack and I - we - _he_- "

"It's alright," he says soothingly, "I understand."

And somewhere deep inside, she knows that he always has.

... ... ...

Valentine's Day is terrible.

For most of his young life, Scorpius has been able to ignore it, to go about like it's any other day. At school, though, it's inescapable.

In first year, he shied away from all girls. From everyone, really. The year following was much the same.

Third year he had spent it in the dormitory, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Rose, and Jack, and how they had somehow become _JackandRose_ and how she was _Jack's _Rose from now on, no longer just Rose. Just Rose.

Katie had been lovely, really. Naturally beautiful, intelligent without being overly so, charming in a conversation. Half-blood, too, which had been his father's second question after her House. Last year it really hadn't been so bad at all.

All the same, Scorpius can't wait for February 14 to pass by, ending the general misery it always seems to bring at least two weeks ahead of schedule.

At ten thirty, he makes his way to the library, knowing that upcoming OWLs are the perfect excuse for being anti-social. He plucks a book off the shelves and chooses a quiet table in the corner by the window. His day is set.

"Scorpius?" An hour or so since he first sat down, Scorpius finds himself looking up at Rose Weasley, her freckles dancing across her face as she smiles. "May I sit with you?"

"Of course," he agrees without a second thought, his head still swimming in the words on the page and not fully absorbing reality as of yet.

"Thanks." She sits down with uncanny precision, angling herself on the chair just so before tucking back the hair behind her right ear, but not her left. A little black book emerges from her bag, her quill and ink set at certain angles to it. Rose crosses her legs at the ankle, left over right, and tucks them underneath her chair, folding her hands in her lap neatly.

Scorpius watches all this with curious eyes, looking over the top of his suddenly uninteresting book. Her perfect position finally assumed, Rose picks up the quill, dips it into the ink (removing any possible excess), and begins to write on a page about halfway through the black book.

He thinks about saying something. Anything. Asking about the black book. Telling her about his book. Mentioning her family. Placing bets on the Quidditch match next week. Commenting on the weather. Wishing her a happy Valentine's. Smiling at her. Asking about her day. Showing her the note in the right pocket of his robe. Explaining what her letters over the summer meant to him. Remembering that golden afternoon, her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him for comfort and strength. Expressing the something about her, about _them_, that he's never understood.

Rose glances up from her writing, pausing to meet his eyes. Rather than looking confused as he'd expected, she smiles at him, a bright grin that makes her chocolate eyes twinkle.

Scorpius ducks his head, trying to at least feign am interest in his book. But it's too late now, the hint of a smile is threatening to fully burst forth on his face, and she knows it.

They sit in amiable silence, him hearing every breath she catches and finding the scratching of her quill one of the most comforting sounds in the world.

It's the best Valentine's ever.

... ... ...

A letter from Scorpius arrives on the morning of her birthday, the eagle owl carrying a brown paper package tied up with string. Rose reaches for it eagerly, tugging at the knots before the owl even lets go.

"Who is it, Rosie?" asks Mum warmly, a hint of knowing mischief in the corner of her mouth as she studies the owl a little more closely before her gaze flickers back to her husband.

"A friend," Rose replies noncommittally, eyes scanning over the letter quickly to double check the handwriting and signature at the bottom. She'll read it closely later, obsess over every word, when she's left alone and Dad isn't looking so dreadfully concerned.

"Emma?" he asks hopefully, though he already knows that her extremely noisy owl arrived ten hours earlier, shortly after midnight.

"It's probably _Scorpius_," pipes up Hugo, winking at Rose and laughing at her tell-tale flaming cheeks.

"Scorpius - Scorpius _Malfoy_?" Dad manages to sputter out in disbelief before Mum puts an arm around his waist, kissing him lightly on the cheek to calm him. Rose softens as she watches them, a wistful smile on her face.

"Yes, Ron, they've been friends since first year," she reminds him calmly, exchanging looks with her thankful daughter. "And it is her birthday, after all."

"Friends with a Malfoy," Rose hears Dad mutter under his breath, more exasperated than outright angry. "I'll bet Harry doesn't deal with this, Lily's only fourteen. He doesn't know what he's going to have to put up with, these _boy_ troubles..."

"Lily has a boyfriend," Hugo points out, rolling his eyes at the ignorance of his ever-lovable Dad as Rose unwraps her latest present.

"_What?_You know, I never went out with a girl until sixth year, we didn't have this funny business about - "

"Oh!" The simple exclamation of joy and wonder escapes Rose's mouth as she holds up the necklace to the sunlight, effectively cutting off the rest of the conversation. "It's beautiful," she sighs contentedly, the platinum butterfly with diamond antennae sparkling on the chain.

Mum helps to fasten it around her neck, the shining look in her eyes showing her unspoken approval of something that hasn't happened yet. "It's lovely, Rosie."

"...well," says Dad gruffly a few moments later, clearing his throat. "A Malfoy, eh?"

Rose nods speechlessly, reaching for the letter to read the precious words Scorpius sent along with his lovely gift.

"Tell him to watch his back."

... ... ...

Scorpius would be lying if he said he hadn't thought of her more than ever that summer.

If he said he hadn't imagined her grinning at him thousands of times.

If he said he hadn't recalled the feeling of her in his arms.

If he said he hadn't wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through her bright red hair.

If he said he hadn't dreamed of holding her hand.

If he said he hadn't tried to count each freckle on her face from memory alone.

If he said he hadn't heard her laughter in his mind.

If he said he hadn't re-read her letters.

If he said he hadn't missed her.

Because he had.

... ... ...

"Scorpius?"

Her voice is tentative, more uncertain than usual, and she wills herself to make it steady. Confident. Scorpius looks up from his Charms essay, a hint of concern in his face. "What is it, Rose?"

Emma looks over at them, curled up in the armchair a few feet away with a sleeping Will and her Transfiguration book, chewing her lip anxiously as she urges Rose on with a silent exchange of glances.

"Er…" Rose begins awkwardly, twirling her quill between her fingers. "I was just wondering…"

He waits patiently for her to finish, those grey eyes locked on hers. She can't think. What is she saying? She can't do this.

"What you got on number five of the Ancient Runes homework," Rose finishes in a rush, Emma rolling her eyes in frustration.

"Oh." He doesn't sound disappointed. It's her imagination. It must be. She's just his friend. "Mine's on that piece of parchment there, by the Potions book."

Rose reaches up to finger the necklace she never takes off, hoping the butterfly will give her strength. Merlin knows she needs it.

"Thanks."

... ... ...

The four of them have been practically inseparable this year. Will, Emma, Rose, Scorpius. Al stops by sometimes, but he's found his true niche in Gryffindor. Either way, it just works, and for once Scorpius feels like he belongs.

They're sitting by the lake on a peaceful May afternoon, the weather a little cooler than usual, and Rose shivers almost imperceptibly.

"Here," says Scorpius without thinking, shrugging off his black robes. "I don't need it, I've got a sweater on," he adds when he sees the frown on her face.

Rose weighs this for a moment in her mind, another light gust of wind making up her mind for her. "Thank you." She slips her arms through the robe, shoving her hands in the pockets for warmth.

"Can you believe we've only got one year left?" Will toys with a strand of Emma's hair, twisting it around his finger. "Feels like just yesterday it was - "

"The end of first year?" completes Rose, holding up a crumpled piece of parchment she fished out of the robe's pockets. Scorpius reaches for it half-heartedly, already knowing that she recognizes it and his efforts are futile.

"What's that?" asks Emma, bewildered.

"You kept this?" Rose stares at Scorpius with wide eyes, ignoring her best friend for the moment. "But you never wrote me that summer. Not once. Not a single line."

He sighs, knowing that any excuse he offers will be worthless. "I wanted to."

"Then why didn't you?" The volume of Rose's voice is rising now, her expression fiery as she tosses the note at him. "I waited for a letter from you everyday!"

"I couldn't, okay?" It's the best he can do, but Rose understands the true meaning in a heartbeat, her face shocked with disappointment.

"You couldn't. Of course you couldn't. You're a pureblood, a _Malfoy_, you probably didn't even want to write me the past couple years, did you?" Scorpius can see the tears rising in her eyes, the doubt. He should have known she still thinks such things of him.

"Rose!" Will stares at the two of them, stunned.

"Why do you think I kept it?" Scorpius explodes at her, crumpling the note in his fist. "Damn it, Rose, why do you think I still have it?"

"I don't know," she replies scornfully, turning her head away from him. "Probably to laugh at me for ever writing it to you, you haughty - "

"Because he's in love with you, you barmy idiot!" interrupts Emma, grabbing Will's hand and jumping to her feet, recognizing the moment to leave the two of them alone. "Really, Rose, have some sense."

Scorpius inhales sharply, suddenly feeling more frightened than he ever has in his life. Within seconds, Will and Emma are out of sight, hurrying back up to the castle, and Rose is staring at him with an unreadable emotion in her face.

"Is it true?" Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper over the breeze blowing her tousled hair into more tangled red curls, his fingers itching to brush through them.

Scorpius almost feigns ignorance, tempted to ask, "Is what true?" before realizing how utterly stupid it sounds. Then again, that's more or less how he feels at the moment.

He settles for silence instead, looking down at his trainers and the green grass that has never been quite so fascinating.

"Scorp." Rose draws closer, he can see her shadow moving along the ground. "Scorp, look at me." Her hand brushes against his elbow, her feet inches from his. "_Scorpius_."

He finally tears his gaze away from the ground, meeting her tear-filled eyes at last.

"Yes."

It's no more than the ghost of a whisper, but the next thing he knows, Rose's lips are on his, and his hands are in her hair, and there isn't a feeling in the entire world that can compare to this.

Nothing is even close.

... ... ...

"I told you so," says Emma matter-of-factly the second Rose returns to their dormitory a few hours later. "I told you so."

Rose doesn't even mind her friend's teasing, ecstatic as she is. She simply smiles before falling onto her bed, pressing her lips together to keep from letting out uncontrollable laughter. "You did."

"I did," Emma repeats, nodding to herself contentedly. "So…" She tucks up her legs into her arms, curling into a ball sitting on top of her bed, ready to hear all. "Tell me _everything_."

Grinning widely, Rose turns her head to meet her friend's excited eyes.

"Oh, Em, I'm just so _happy_."

... ... ...

As the Hogwarts Express pulls back up to Platform 9 ¾, Scorpius automatically tightens his grip on Rose's hand. She smiles back at him reassuringly, but it doesn't stop a shiver from running down his spine.

The first face he sees when he gets off the train is Mrs. Hermione Weasley, with Rose's friendly smile. At her side is her husband, his arms crossed and frowning slightly. Hugo is somehow already with them, smirking rather uncharacteristically.

"Mum! Dad!" Rose lets go of Scorpius' hand and rushes into her parents' arms, hugging them tightly. Her dad's face transforms completely, and suddenly Scorpius isn't as apprehensive anymore.

"Rosie, you look lovely!" exclaims her mum, tenderly brushing her flyaway hair out of her face.

"Thanks, Mum." Rose turns back to Scorpius, gesturing for him to come forward. He takes a deep breath, putting on a smile before coming forward. "Mum, Dad…this is Scorp. My boyfriend," she pronounces proudly.

"Nice to meet you," he says, holding out his hand properly the way Father has taught him to when being introduced to everyone he deems important.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Scorpius," replies Rose's mum sincerely, pulling him into a warm hug. "It's really a shame we haven't properly met before this."

"Yes, a shame," echoes Mr. Ron Weasley with a hint of sarcasm, sticking out his hand to Scorpius. "Ron Weasley."

"Pleasure, sir." Scorpius forces a nervous smile as he shakes his hand, Rose wrapping an arm around his waist loosely.

"Scorpius?" He turns around to face his father, looking as characteristically proud as ever before meeting Rose's eyes. "Oh…who is this?"

"Rose Weasley," she introduces herself brightly, smiling and holding out her hand in greeting. "I've heard so much about you, Mr. Malfoy." Scorpius cringes slightly at this comment, but Father oddly doesn't seem fazed by it.

"Rose…" He looks up at the two familiar faces behind his son, shocked as he finishes, "Weasley."

"Malfoy," returns Rose's dad coldly, his wife elbowing him sharply in the stomach.

"Good to see you, Draco. How's Astoria?" she asks, as normally as though they've been meeting up every Sunday afternoon for tea.

"Fine." Scorpius is actually somewhat tempted to laugh at the shell-shocked look on Father's face. "I mean, she's – she's getting over a bit of a cold, so I came by myself today."

"Would you care to spend the afternoon with us?" Mr. Weasley gapes at this invitation, but his wife continues smoothly, "I'm sure we'd all love some time to catch up."

Hermione Weasley, formerly Granger, loops her arm through that of her former nemesis as he agrees with the closest expression to a smile that Scorpius has seen on his face in awhile. "Perfect."

Rose looks up at Scorpius, laughing at his bewilderment. "That's Mum for you. Come on!" She tugs at his hand, dragging him after their parents as they exit the platform.

"But – but – " he sputters, still confused. "They don't hate us?"

Laughing, Rose shakes her head. "Of course not! There's nothing to be worried about."

"Nothing to be worried about," repeats Scorpius, watching his father shake hands with Mr. Weasley. "I guess not."

... ... ...

"Rose," murmurs Scorpius quietly, his lips pressed to her hair as they sit together in the library, him reading the book over her shoulder.

"Hmm?" she replies softly, turning her head to look up at him with a smile.

He grins back, so easily that she can't remember what it was like when the whole school saw him only as the dangerous son of a former Death Eater. "I love you."

Rose leans forward, brushing her lips against his lightly, his arms tightening around her.

"I know."

* * *

><p><em>AN: First of all, I have to give props for the title to whoever wrote the song "Pretending" from Glee. xD I was listening to the song as I was putting the finishing touches on this, and I figured the chorus was appropriate enough for me to use a phrase as the previously non-existent title. ;) Then I have to apologize for the length and quality of this. ;D I honestly started with no more of an idea than the ship and that it was going to be from first year until they were together, which I figured would be near the end of their time at Hogwarts. xP The characterization and plot and dialogue and everything is weak, I know, but hopefully this will give me the boost I need to write more (and hopefully better). ;P This fic is dedicated to Emma, as a belated birthday present because I was lazy and started far too late, so I couldn't get this done on time. xD I hope you enjoyed it, Emma, though I know it doesn't compare to anything of yours ;) Thank you everyone for reading, and I'd love if you dropped a review on the way out! :D_


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